


Mouthful Of Freckles

by 18yearold



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Freckles, Friends to Lovers, Modern AU, Pining, blowjob, insecure bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18yearold/pseuds/18yearold
Summary: Bellamy lets it slip he has freckles on his dick. Clarke cannot function.





	Mouthful Of Freckles

"I mean dicks just all look the same to me." Clarke explains, sitting next to Bellamy on the couch.

They are discussing whether dicks are bland and predictable or unique. That's the level of friendship they have reached. She's pretty proud.

Clarke has seen a fair amount of male genitals online and a few in real life; all of them look the same to her.

"C'mon, princess. There's circumcised and uncircumcised." Bellamy reasons.

Clarke cringes, "Ugh, that shouldn't even be a thing. I have no clue why circumcision is still legal. It's unnecessary and dangerous."

"My mom circumcised me because the doctor said I'd die unless I underwent the procedure. My mom wasn't educated; she just trusted the doctor's word."

To her guilt, Clarke has always preferred circumcised penises, but that does not make the practice acceptable. Folks shouldn't circumcise their kids for aesthetic. Gross, why do parents want their sons to have what they perceive to be attractive genitals anyways?

"See! That's a plain lie. But, circumcised versus uncircumcised are basically the only deviations in peckers!"

Bellamy grins at her new nickname for penises, "You're forgetting about length. Some men, such as myself, are well endowed. While others are… less fortunate." Bellamy smirks cockily.

Clarke gulps. She's always suspected he was well hung. He spreads his legs considerably wide while sitting down. Nothing crazy, but enough for her to know he's above average. She's also caught a glimpse of him in a speedo during his swim competition. Clarke has always been a size queen, so this knowledge is not helping at all with her stupid crush on Bellamy.

Clarke clears her throat, "What else you got?" She refuses to yield just yet. She loves dragging out their debates.

"Wood differs in girth as well. Some guys have a lot of pubes downstairs, while others are hairless mole rats."

Clarke rushes to refute him, "Pubic hair doesn’t count in this discussion! We're talking about the member and balls!"

"Fine, if I may continue. Some pricks are veiny, some are less angry looking. Balls can be large, medium, or small sized. Some pricks have freckles, while others are free of blemishes. So in conclusion-" Bellamy speaks so casually.

Clarke tunes out the rest of his sentence after the mention of freckles. What is he talking about? She's never heard of, nor seen a man with freckles on his rod.

She cuts Bellamy off, "Wait, what? Rewind. Freckles?" 

"What about 'em?" Bellamy nonchalantly asks.

"Guys don't have freckles on their thing. I mean, men can get spots on their phallus due to certain STD's but... Not natural freckles — I don't think."

"What do you mean? Men can have healthy, freckled dongs. I'm living proof of that." Bellamy chuckles.

Bellamy Blake has freckles on his dick.

"What?" Clarke steadily asks, hating how hoarse her voice sounds.

She suddenly can't stop staring at the constellation of freckles littered across his face. Are the ones on his cock like the ones on his face? Are they blotchy? Are they spread apart or assembled close? 

"I have... freckles on my cock." Bellamy slowly repeats.

Clarke is curious more than ever now as to what his cock looks like. She's always wanted to know, since she's been in love with him for the past two years, but now her pussy is throbbing in want and her panties feel sticky. Clarke feels her right leg shake in anxious arousal.

She wants so badly to just unzip his tight jeans and find the answers to these questions.

But, she can't. Because Bellamy Blake is her best friend, not her boyfriend. She highly doubts he wants to date her, or is even sexually attracted to her. Bellamy doesn't date as much as he used to, but he always had a type: skinny brunettes with A and B cup boobs. Clarke isn't exactly petite, brunette, or small breasted. 

"Hey, you look… tense. What's wrong?" Bellamy worriedly asks, moving his body closer to hers.

Oh God. His hand is rubbing her back now. Clarke wants to soften the furrow in his brows, but all she can think about is his cock.

Clarke crosses her legs to relieve the ache in her pussy. Her brain is asking new questions every second. How many freckles are there? What color are they? Where exactly are they located — on the member or the head — or maybe both?

"Clarke! What's going on?"

"I'm okay. I just zoned out. Thinking about work."

Bellamy looks like he doesn't buy her fib, but doesn't press further.

"I feel like I've told you about my freckles before." Bellamy murmurs, probably knowing Clarke wants to change the subject from her mild, internal freakout.

Clarke would have remembered if he had such a conversation with her. Clarke looks down at his jeans, trying to discern the outline of his cock. 

"No, you never told me you had freckles on your dick." Clarke gruffly responds.

Bellamy looks perplexed at her obviously affected tone. She hopes he can't pick up on the desire in her voice. He seems so dumbfounded she didn't know this. As if it's common knowledge that Bellamy Blake has flecks of pigment scattered on his phallus.

Bellamy is about to say something, but Clarke can't handle it anymore. She has learned that her friend she’s been in love with for the past two years has a large, circumcised, freckled cock all in one day. She deserves a medal for not dropping to her knees begging Bellamy to let her lick his freckles.

"I, I got to go. I have this dinner thing with Raven." Clarke stammers out the lie, ignoring the look of hurt on his face and races out of his house. 

\----------

"I think I freaked Clarke out last week." Bellamy confesses to Miller, his roommate. 

"Did you not so subtly sniff her hair again?" Miller laughs, bemused.

Bellamy quickly maunders, "No! I kinda told her that I have… you know, freckles down there."

Miller goes quiet for a moment. "You told her… what?"

"Was I not supposed to say that?"

Miller sniggers, "Pretty sure if you like a girl, you don't describe your dick to her. Especially if you don't wanna scare her off."

"I didn't just start talking about my dick randomly! It came up since she thought freckled dicks didn't exist! I told her I have that aforementioned penis to prove her wrong and she got all weird and antsy. I think she lied about having dinner plans with Raven to ditch."

"Ouch. Freckled dicks aren't really common; it probably surprised her."

"Do you think she is… turned off by it?" Bellamy whispers.

He is head over heels in love with Clarke. He can't date someone who is repulsed by his junk. His heart pangs at the prospect of never being with Clarke because he has an abnormal penis. He wants to be with her in a sexual setting, but he also wants to be with her in other ways. He's frickin' enamored with her.

Bellamy kinda assumed plenty of men had freckles on their dicks since he couldn't be the only one. Bellamy never felt insecure about the freckles since he's lived with it his entire life. It was just always there. Now, he is cursing whoever his father is for passing down this wretched freckle gene.

"No, man! I think she just felt uncomfortable knowing that much information about your junk." Miller assures Bellamy, though it hurts him more knowing he made Clarke uncomfortable.

"God, you're right. I probably came off so fucking creepy." Bellamy mentally scolds himself for not fully thinking his words.

He wants to race over to her house, cradle her face, and ask if he crossed any lines. He settles on a text instead because he's too much of a coward to call her.

To: Princess  
Hey, Clarke. I apologize for the TMI last week. That's undermining how fucking creepy I was. I'm sorry I told you too much about my... yeah. It was obviously inappropriate. We always make dick jokes and sometimes talk about our junk casually, but you never reacted like you did that day. I mean, you were so uncomfortable. You were crossing your legs tight and squeezing your fists! I really didn't mean to make you feel awkward or unease you in any way. I'm so sorry.

Bellamy anxiously awaits her response.

\----------------

Clarke reads Bellamy's text and instantly feels a torrent of guilt wrack her body. Bellamy mistook Clarke being turned on as Clarke essentially being traumatized by knowing Bellamy has freckles down there. He's ridiculous! He didn't say anything wrong! This is typical Bellamy to have a stupid guilt complex.

She rereads the part about him seeing her cross her legs. Jesus fucking Christ. He caught that? Clarke blushes and groans. She feels mortified. He watched Clarke try to lessen her lust. She's glad he didn't catch on to the horny part, but she doesn't want him to feel bad for something that isn't his fault.

How the hell does she respond? "Hey, you did nothing wrong! Stop assuming the worst of yourself. I just got super horny after you told me you have freckles on your penis." No, she can't do that. 

Clarke decides to text him something that would reestablish their casual, fun friendship, but also soothe any contrition he feels.

To: Bell  
Bellamy, you did nothing wrong. Like you said, we always talk about TMI stuff. I don't want you to feel bad. I wasn't uncomfortable, I was just zoning out; I've been stressed lately with work. Stop worrying that pretty head of yours.

Clarke knows Bellamy probably won't believe in her 'zoning out' story, but it's the best she can come up with. It is partly true; she was zoning out -- thinking about Bellamy's penis, though.

Her phone buzzes after just a minute.

From: Bell  
Are you sure? You don't need to lie to save my feelings or make me feel better. Please tell me if I did anything wrong.

Clarke groans -- this man will not let up. Clarke resolves to invite him over in order to get their friendship back to normal and convince him everything is fine. Also, she misses his face. 

To: Bell  
Really, you're fine and I'm okay. Come over to mine in 20? I'll attempt to cook(;

\-------

Bellamy was almost persuaded of her reassurances until he came to her house.

She's been avoiding his eyes ever since he arrived, stumbling over her words, and even sweating a little. She's hiding out in the kitchen under the guise of preparing them dinner. Usually she begs Bellamy to take over while she watches him cook and adds commentary, like a cooking show.

Smelling something burning, Bellamy pokes his head into the kitchen. 

He asks, "Need any help?"

Clarke looks up in surprise, but also relief, "Actually, yes. I think I burned the Alfredo sauce."

"How can someone burn sauce?" Bellamy chuckles, rinsing the saucepan and gathering the ingredients to recreate a new batch.

Clarke lets out a weak and choked laugh, which is the last straw. Clarke never laughs like that.

"Alright, spill it." Bellamy demands, clattering the wooden spoon onto the counter.

"Spill what?" Clarke manages.

"You're still super uncomfortable around me! I knew I was creepy, I never sh-"

Clarke stops him, "No, it's not your fault, it's mine!"

"What do you mean?"

Clarke didn't mean for it to come to this. She has no choice but to tell Bellamy the truth, or at least part of it. Bellamy is so stressed and upset at the prospect of Clarke being uneasy around him, when she's really just trying to hide her arousal and interest in his cock.

"I've just been…"

"Just been what? You've been avoiding eye contact with me! I know something is up. Please tell me the truth. No bull about stress." Bellamy pleads, eyes wide and a bit glossy.

Clarke can't handle the guilt in Bellamy's voice and eyes.

She rushes to soothe him, "Honestly, I've just been… fixated on your dick. Ever since I learned you have freckles on it, I've thought of it. I don't mean to think intensely about it, but I do."

Bellamy's eyes and mouth widen, "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

Bellamy's throat swells with a lump but he manages to ask, "So… Does it gross you out?"

He’s making a valiant effort to inject amusement into his voice, but he just sounds insecure and shaky.

Clarke furrows her brows, "No, why would you think that?"

"You just said you can't stop thinking about it." Bellamy mumbles.

"Because it's really attractive!" Clarke splutters, immediately covering her mouth.

Did she really just say that?

“Really?” Bellamy asks with a small smile forming on his face.

It’s too late for Clarke to deny it.

“Well- It’s, uhh… I- I think a freckled dick sounds hot. Super sexy.” Clarke stammers out, omitting that she finds it hot that it’s his dick that is freckled.

“But, you were all antsy and uncomfortable when I told you about mine.”

Clarke has already admitted she thinks his penis is hot. Why not also admit the rest of the truth? She takes a deep breath before uttering a sentence that will completely change everything between them.

“Well, you see that was me being uncomfortable because my panties were wet.”

Bellamy’s mouth gapes in shock at her words.

Fuck. Did she mess this up? Of course she did. Why did she have to say that? She’s so crass. 

“So when you were crossing your legs it was to-”

“Erm, yeah.”

“So, you don’t think my penis is weird and gross?” Bellamy clarifies.

“Not at all.”

Suddenly she feels hands cradling her face and lips pressing against hers earnestly.

Once Clarke manages to get over her shock, she begins to kiss him back with just as much passion and tongue.

Bellamy’s hand slides under her shirt, caressing her hip bones. Clarke feels her inhibitions loosen so she pulls back to ensure they are both are the same page before she loses herself to the euphoria.

“Just so you know, I like you. A lot.” Clarke says, walking them to her couch. 

Bellamy grins, “I like you too. A lot.”

Clarke laughs, “I mean, I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I want to… We should like-”

Bellamy senses her difficulty to string words together to demonstrate she wants more than sex with him without revealing her vulnerabilities. 

“I know. I would love a relationship with you. I always have.” Bellamy sheepishly admits.

Clarke blushes, “I’m glad we both want the same thing.”

Bellamy beams down at her, peppering kisses down her neck.

Clarke giggles, “Stop! It tickles!”

They play fight for a few minutes, Bellamy tickling her sides and rubbing his nose against her neck, until Bellamy nuzzles his head in between her thighs.

“I really wanna taste you.” Bellamy mutters, licking his lips.

“I really wanna taste you.” Clarke parrots.

“Me first.”

“No, I’ve been waiting to look at your cock for far too long.”

Clarke wins in the end.

Bellamy slowly pulls down his pants and boxers. Bellamy’s cock has a ring of brown freckles circled around the base and a littering of smaller freckles on the tip, closely smattered. His freckles are similar to the ones on his face -- beautiful. Clarke makes a mental note to ask Bellamy later how he feels about posing nude for one of her sketches.

Clarke feels the need to say, “Wow.”

“Good wow or what the fuck, nevermind wow?”

Clarke voices, “Good wow. Really good wow.”

Bellamy chuckles, “Thanks.”

Clarke gives little licks to the brown freckles adorning his gorgeous dick. She spends about five minutes lavishing each freckle in worship before taking pity on Bellamy’s impatience and breathy gasps to fully wrap her lips around Bellamy's cock. The strangled moan and fingers carding in her hair she receives in response gratifies her. Clarke feeds herself more and more of his dick as Bellamy groans in appreciation. Clarke spends some time tracing his veins and suckling his tip before closing her mouth around him again. Bellamy rubs soothing circles against her cheek, feeling the indent of his cock there and caressing her face in affection.

“Fuck, you’re making me feel so good baby.”

Clarke smiles as much as she can with a goddamn dick in her mouth.

“Shit, babe I’m close.” Bellamy grunts out.

Clarke quickly removes her mouth from him, facials and swallowing has never been her thing, and jacks him off sloppily.

He cums into her hand, exhausted.

“I love you.” Bellamy breathes out.

Clarke grins, “I’m kinda into this pillow talk.”

“Shut up,” Bellamy says with no heat, just fondness in his eyes. “So, do you concede?”

“Concede to what?” Clarke asks in confusion.

“That dicks aren’t all boring and predictable.” Bellamy smugly replies.

“Oh my god, seriously?!” Clarke guffaws.

“Just admit you were wrong, you’ll feel much better.”

“Oh please, that would be such an ego boost for you.”

“Not gonna lie, it would be. Knowing I am the only man you’ve been with whose penis isn’t bland.”

Clarke smirks, “Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s my turn, you know.” Bellamy sing songs.

“Your turn to what?”

Bellamy grins, “Taste you.”

“I’m down.”

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE leave feedback. Sorry the smut sucked, I was gonna add Bellamy eating Clarke out too but got lazy.


End file.
